Make Heaven Wait
by highheartbeats
Summary: Sometimes, a life is over too soon. How does a loved one cope? What if you could see them again? Hold them, feel them, touch them? Is it really possible to make heaven wait? WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH Johnny Weir, Stéphane Lambiel  Figure Skating


**Make Heaven Wait**

**Disclaimer: I don't own these men, as they're real. I get no profit out of this other than just my own enjoyment. Don't sue!**

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><p><em>I see you smiling every day<em>

_Looking back at me like nothing ever changed  
>I swear i heard you call my name<br>But in reality  
>Its just your picture in a frame<em>

Why am i here  
>Without you<br>When there was so much for us left to do  
>How could the angels have come so soon ?<p>

_Make Heaven Wait – Wayne Brady_

Johnny stumbled his way into the living room, collapsing onto the sofa. He lay there on his side and drew his legs up to his chest. Was there ever going to be a night where he had some peace? Where this awful pain in his chest would subside, even for a time? No, he didn't want that. The pain was all that was left making him still feel alive. Without the pain, he was nothing, just a shell of a man.

Before now, he'd never thought it was possible for one person to cry so much in the space of two days. Now, however, crying was all he ever seemed to do. He should be packing, there was a plane to catch in the morning. A plane to catch and last minute funeral arrangements to finalize.

Truthfully, he shouldn't have been the one arranging the funeral. There was family to do that, but he'd always had a hard time letting go of control, and they were more than happy to give it to him. Johnny had never met a better, more genuinely kind group of people in his life. They understood that they weren't the only ones who had lost a loved one. Johnny was grieving too. And for him to grieve, he needed some semblance of control over the proceedings. Some control in a world that was swiftly being pulled out from under his feet like a rug.

It had happened so quickly, in the blink of an eye, but now it played back in his mind endlessly in slow motion. If he'd have just moved a little faster or looked up sooner. The other driver was drunk, she'd veered into their lane, and before Johnny even had time to react, it was over.

The last thing he remembered was looking across the front of the car to Stéphane, knowing there was no way to avoid impact. Stéphane's dark brown eyes had locked onto his green ones in that moment, then everything had gone black.

Johnny had awakened to the sound of a fireman shouting outside. The sound of metal creaking and groaning and a machine running quickly flooded his ears. When he opened his eyes, though, he wasn't in the car any more. He was on the ground outside, paramedics tending to him. Miraculously, he was uninjured.

Then everything set in. He sat up in a flash, pushing people away from him wordlessly, "Stéphane! Where is he? Is he all right?" The looks he received in reply weren't hopeful.

He pulled himself to his feet, despite the splitting headache he was developing. One glance around the area brought his lover into view. Stéphane was on the ground a few feet away from him, unmoving.

"I'm sorry, hun, but he didn't make it..." One woman told him gently.

All Johnny could say in that moment was 'no', over and over again as he threw himself over Stéphane's lifeless body. He cried and screamed and fought anyone who tried to take him away. In the end, he'd spent the night in the hospital and the morning on paperwork.

There was so much to do. He had to get the records straight for who Stéphane was, then he had to set up the plans to send him home to Switzerland. Then was the hardest part. Johnny had to call his family and give them the news. His French was rusty but he didn't have to understand them to know exactly what they were saying and feeling in that moment.

So now, there he was, laying hopelessly on the sofa in his living room. _Their_ living room. He pressed his cheek to his knee, turning his head slightly. The photograph on the coffee table caught his eye. It was he and Stéphane, sitting backstage at a show. Stéphane was smiling brightly, his arms wrapped possessively around Johnny, and Johnny was staring up at him with nothing short of absolute adoration in his eyes.

Johnny choked back a sob at the memory, at the sight of Stéphane's smiling face. He'd see that face one more time, the face he loved so much, but it wouldn't be smiling. Johnny wasn't sure he could deal with that, Stéphane always smiled. Just like he wasn't sure he could handle a trip to Switzerland, all of Stéphane's family and their close friends telling them how sorry they were.

Then, and maybe it was the lack of sleep or the amount of alcohol he'd consumed that day, but Johnny felt a hand on his back. A warm, strong hand, and a familiar voice.

"Johnny, _bébé_, why are you so sad?"

He actually gasped, scrambling up the side of the sofa until his green eyes (wide with shock) settled on that familiar face. "Stéphane...?" He managed in a shaky, uncertain tone.

"_Bien _s_û__r_, who else would it be? Or are you in the habit of letting many Swiss men into our house?" Stéphane grinned broadly and Johnny felt it the whole way through him.

"But... how? This can't be. You're... you... you can't be here Stéphane. You can't." Fresh tears were welling up in his eyes.

"But I am always with you, _chérie__. _Here." He reached out, pressing the palm of his hand to Johnny's chest. Johnny looked down and raised a shaky hand to cover Stéphane's. He felt real.

"But, how? I don't understand..."

"There is nothing to understand. Come here." Stéphane gathered up Johnny into his arms, just holding him close.

Johnny knew it wasn't real, it couldn't be, but in that moment he didn't care. He had Stéphane back, even if it was only for a short time. He snuggled in close, resting his head on Stéphane's warm chest, feeling his heartbeat underneath.

Stéphane began to hum and rub his back gently, soothing him like he always had when Johnny was upset. "Sleep, _bébé_, you need the rest. You have a long day tomorrow. Sleep."

Despite his wish to stay awake, to keep Stéphane there where he could see him, Johnny was tired. His eyes fell closed and sleep began to take him as he concentrated on nothing more than the warmth of Stéphane's body, his hands moving across his back, his voice humming softly, and the smell of him so close.

When he woke, Johnny was on the sofa alone. He rubbed at his eyes and saw it was almost morning. The memory of the night before came flooding back and he thought for sure he was going insane. Stéphane was gone and he knew it, but he'd do anything to see him again, even if that meant drinking himself to death.

That would have to wait for another day though. Johnny had to finish packing and catch his flight to Switzerland. He just hoped, when he finally did have time to settle down, Stéphane would come to him again.

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><p><strong>Author Note:<strong> I hope you enjoyed. Sorry it's so sad! Maybe things will look up? Review, please!


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